Edible Memoir

When you think of Japan, what food first pops into your head? Sushi? A steaming bowl of ramen? Or perhaps katsu curry swirls to mind. Your first word association with the Land of the Rising Sun could have even been just rice. Could even be gyoza, udon, tempura, or even teppanyaki. But, you probably don’t think it’s dashi, or maybe you do, because you’re an informed epicure and you’ve made miso soup from scratch before.

Having visited their fair island multiple times, I’ve developed a deep appreciation for the country’s cuisine. I’ve sampled everything from common favorites to dishes that would make my best friend recoil. Yet even as an adventurous eater, I’ve encountered two Japanese delicacies I simply can’t swallow, uni and natto. Uni is sea urchin, but to be even more explicit, uni is the reproductive parts of the sea urchin. If that doesn’t already make you question the dish, then let me expound on its texture and smell. The texture is slimy, yet with a little density. It can slide down one’s tongue with buttery smoothness, if you can pardon its smell, which is basically…of the sea. All that being said, it’s not my least favorite. that spot is reserved for natto. Natto is the fermented concoction of soybeans, it’s sticky and slimy, and quite literally impossible to eat with any decorum. The aroma of this dish is indescribable, it’s pungent with a side of fermentation This one truly requires an acquired taste.

I share these personal preferences not to disparage an entire culture’s food traditions, but to emphasize that taste is deeply personal, I am human after all. It’s also a reminder that Japanese cuisine extends far beyond what’s commonly known in Western countries. In my book, or more accurately, in my blog, in this vast culinary landscape, one edible element deserves worldwide recognition, which brings me to today’s “Dashi-ng Edification”, the story of dashi.

Dashi, in many ways, is the invisible foundation of Japanese cuisine. It’s the umami-packed stock that forms the base of countless Japanese dishes, yet rarely gets the spotlight it deserves. Think about it, when was the last time you heard someone rave about dashi the way they might about tonkotsu ramen or fresh sashimi?

This humble broth is to Japanese cooking what chicken stock is to French cuisine or sofrito is to Spanish food. It is the building block that carries flavor and brings depth to everything it touches. The difference is that while Western stocks often simmer for hours, traditional dashi can be ready in as little as 15 minutes, which is a testament to the Japanese appreciation for simplicity and efficiency.

Dashi is a clear broth made by steeping umami-rich ingredients in hot water. While there are several varieties of dashi, the most common is made with just two ingredients, kombu (dried kelp) and katsuobushi (dried, fermented, and smoked skipjack tuna flakes, also known as bonito flakes). All of which you can find in your friendly neighborhood grocery store, in the “Asian” aisle. Don’t even get me started on aisle names, that should and could be another blog post entirely.

The process is elegant in its simplicity, cold water and kombu go into a pot, which is slowly brought up to just below a boil. The kombu is removed, to prevent bitterness, trust me on this, don’t let it steep too long. Then the katsuobushi, aka the bonito flakes, is added, simmered briefly, and then strained out. What remains is liquid umami, a clear, amber-ish broth with a depth of flavor that belies its quick preparation. If you want to give it a try, Bon Appétit has a fantastic step-by-step dashi recipe that even a complete novice can nail on the first attempt. I’m living proof.

Dashi is not just any ingredient, it embodies the concept of umami, that elusive fifth taste. In 1908, Japanese chemist Kikunae Ikeda, identified glutamates from kombu, which is essentially the scientific word for umami. When people ask what is this flavor, it is so unidentifiable, you can just say, it’s glutamates! Which doesn’t quite have the roll-off-the-tongue characteristic of the word umami, I guess that’s why they changed the name. Speaking of changing names, I’m sure you’ve been warned about the perils of MSG, but its true name is monosodium glutamate. Yes, MSG is just another kind of umami.

In recent years, umami has become a buzzword in global culinary circles, and rightfully so, (you have no idea the weight MSG carries in dishes), dashi has begun to receive more international recognition. You can find recipes incorporating the stock into dishes all over the internet. I’m not going to provide a link here because I personally have not tried to use it in Western cooking (yet!) so I won’t be endorsing said recipes. But I swear it’s there.

In a culinary world often obsessed with the new and flashy, dashi reminds us that sometimes the most profound flavors come from the simplest preparations. And while I may never learn to love uni or natto, I’ll always have a profound appreciation for the quiet magic of dashi, the unsung hero of Japanese cuisine in this “Dashi-ng Edification”.